Doggone.

That’s what Bosch was one day this past week.

As per our usual morning routine, we opened the door unleashed our American Staffordshire terrier mix of a baby onto the countryside. He ran out the door to pee and poop while we finished getting ready for work.

Unlike other mornings, however, he did not come trotting back inside 10 minutes later, his neighborhood canine friend stopping at the door to bid farewell.

We called and whistled and called more for him to come to us from wherever he (and the neighbor dog, probably) were romping. My wife walked down the lane by our house and I drove up to the larger road to look for him.

We were both late to work, and still no Bosch.

We woke our adult daughter who took over the search for us, as we started our workdays. I was immediately busy and didn’t have much time to worry about him, but in the few minutes I did have to worry, boy, did I. What if he was injured in the woods? What if he had gone up to the road, gotten hit, and crawled off into a ditch? Should I leave work and go look for my furry child?

My wife was running all kinds of scenarios through her head, too,and checking in with our daughter.

Found him yet? Is he home yet?

No. Haven’t seen him.

Finally, almost three hours after we had let him out, he came prancing back like everything was normal.

Our daughter fussed at him a bit, then Bosch noticed my wife and I were gone and seemed to realize something was up. We were texted a photo of a sad looking tan pit bull lying on our bed.

“Not happy with him, but happy to see him,” I texted back.

I have run off so many times when I realized my freedom in Christ. I can do what I want! I have eternal life! Woo-hoo! Then at some point, I have realized my need to come home, unaware until that point that maybe my Father is not happy with me.

Our actions betray who we are. Not our facial expressions or our words — our actions. The word “hypocrite” means “actor,” someone who pretends to be something other than what they really are.

I know I have been an actor at times. Have you? What I want to be is genuine, and focused, and faithful to my God.

When we got home that day, Bosch was excited to see us, as usual, but he also was a little subdued. He seemed aware of our disappointment and concern. But we still petted and rubbed and talked to him, because we still loved him. Our love for him is why we were concerned for his well-being.

I’m so glad to know when I come back to my Father after I have been disobedient that he still loves me.

News editor Brett Campbell can be reached at brett.campbell@dailyleader.com.